A/N: I couldn't help myself! I kept thinking about where Hermione and Severus would be a few years down the road, how many kids they might have and to what houses they might belong to... I figured you might be interested, too, so here it is: An epilogue to the epilogue!
I'm currently working on the promised Christmas chapter(s). I can't say by when I will start posting it, but I'll leave an author's note with this story when I do. Thanks again for reading and reviewing! It's been a lot of fun!
Epilogue Two
The Great Hall looked as festive as ever – hundreds of candles floating in the air, fires blazing in the braziers on the wall and the polished tables laid for the coming banquet.
Severus sat in the headmaster's chair in the middle of the staff table and felt a pang of melancholy when looking down at the excited students at the four house tables. This year's sorting was going to be another turning point in his life, signifying the end and the beginning of a new chapter. His baby daughter was starting at Hogwarts – the last one to leave their nest at Prince House where they had lived as a family, including Great-Aunt Noria and Aunt Irma, for so many years now.
The four kids had without doubt brought the old mansion to life during that time, not to mention all the pets. Now, with the last kid gone, quiet would descend again, just like before he and Hermione had made it their home.
Sure, the restricted connection from the headmaster's private suite in Hogwarts to their living room in Prince House would remain, as he still intended to spent his nights at home with his wife. But all the kids slept in their respective dormitories, just like every other student, and didn't get the privilege of quickly flooing home to see their mother. He knew it was going to be hard on Hermione – and on Noria, who was like a grand-mother to his brood. He was glad to be the headmaster now, as he couldn't even imagine not seeing his kids every day. He wouldn't be surprised if Hermione decided to give up her job at the ministry came to teach here as well. After so many years working as an Unspeakable, she was qualified in almost every subject – most of all Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Charms. With a little coaching, he had no doubt that she would be proficient enough to even teach Potions. Hm... that might be an option to ponder.
The doors to the Great Hall flew open and Draco, Deputy Headmaster, Head of Slytherin and still Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts, brought the first years in. Almost immediately, Severus spotted his daughter among them, who looked just as excited as the rest of the lot. It had felt strange escorting her to King's Cross this morning and putting her on to the Hogwart's Express, when her room was – at least for him – just a door away.
But it wouldn't have been appropriate to bring his daughter to Hogwarts by using the passageway. It had been the train for her, just like for every other student, and he wouldn't have had it any other way. The long journey from London to Scotland in the old steam train, which had originally been the only means of transport suited to bring the Muggleborn students to the school, was now the only opportunity to get to know fellow students without house prejudice already in the way, and had long since become a rite of passage. The six hours between saying good-by to parents and arriving in their new home brought awareness to the separation and was a first step to independence.
It had also made him and Hermione very aware of the fact that their last child was fledging. Although Hermione could not officially attend the Welcome Feast, Severus suspected that she had snuck into the Great Hall to witness the sorting of her baby daughter. He thought he had seen the tell-tale flickering of a Disillusionment Charm in the left corner, and was sure that if he reached out for her with Legilimency, he would find his suspicion confirmed. With all the practice and research he and Hermione had done on the subject, they had long since perfected mind-to-mind communication to a form of art. However, he chose not to employ the means at his disposal but rather pretend ignorance. Although Hermione had cheerfully waved good-bye when they had both seen their excited first-year off at the station, Severus knew that it tore at her heart to see her youngest leave the nest. Tonight, he doubtlessly had a witch to console, and it was a good thing that he already had plans on how to do so.
His attention was once more brought back to the proceedings in the Hall when Neville Longbottom, Head of Gryffindor, carried in the Sorting Hat. As soon as the old and battered headgear had sung this year's song (which had been terribly buoyant – the hat had been unconcerned about school unity for a couple of years now), Neville called up the first name on the list, Caledonia Adams, and a small, blond girl with pigtails excitedly climbed onto the chair.
Severus still remembered the Sorting Ceremony six years ago, when Athena had been sitting on that chair, a bit nervous, but composed, with a clear idea in mind into which house she wanted to be sorted. The hat hadn't taken long to decide: Ravenclaw had gotten his firstborn daughter. He and Hermione had chosen her name perfectly: Athena was walking wisdom. A rather aloof, studious and incredibly smart girl – it was hard to tell if she resembled him or Hermione in that regard. Athena was like a young Hermione and a young Severus rolled into one. She might have been considered a bit of a nerd in any of the other houses, but in Ravenclaw, she was among kids who accepted and respected her for her brains. Just like Hermione at her age, she spent most of her free time in the library, which was still managed by Irma, to whom Athena had always been particularly close.
Severus might have been concerned for Athena, given that she had so little in common with other kids her age, which, in his experience, made them prone to being mobbed by others. But Athena was too smart and too powerful a witch to be made a victim. She had a healthy dose of self-confidence, too, and it showed. Instead of mobbing her, kids who found her peculiar rather maintained a careful distance. Her scowl (yes, she had learned to scowl rather well) usually was enough to stop anyone from pestering her, and that included her siblings.
While Athena approached everything about school with great seriousness, she was totally different at home. Much like himself, he had to admit. His students would be flabbergasted if they ever saw him at home with his family – joking, teasing, laughing. And at home, during the holidays, Athena was laughing, fighting and playing with her siblings just like any other kid, being especially affectionate with her youngest sister.
Scorpius and James, who had basically grown up with her, were Athena's closest friends, which also helped considerably with her social standing. Technically, they were about a year older, but they had all ended up as year mates, since Athena, at the end of her first Hogwarts year, had jumped straight into third, when it had become clear that she was way ahead of her year mates intellectually. Severus was always reminded a bit of the Golden Trio when he saw them together. They weren't quite as inseparable as Harry, Hermione and Ron had been at the time, given that they were in different houses, but whenever they stuck their heads together, his responsible and studious daughter was prone to get into mischief – though she always claimed that she was just trying to keep the boys out of it. Very much like a certain Know-it-All, he remembered...
A year later, Ophelia had been sorted, who would be taking her OWLS this year. Unlike Athena, she bore little resemblance with either of her parents, at least physically. Apart from having inherited his dark hair and Hermione's petite frame, she didn't look like anyone in the family. She was the prettiest of his girls, and she knew it. Her hair was slightly wavy all the time, not like Athena's, which would still start curling when she was particularly agitated. Ophelia would be appalled if her emotional state was so openly on display.
To everybody's surprise, her eyes were a sparkling blue, just like those of her maternal grandfather. But even people who didn't know that blue eyes did indeed run in the family couldn't doubt that Ophélia was his daughter. She was a Slytherin to the core – cunning, smart and with an inborn talent to read and manipulate people. She could be incredibly sweet too, had impeccable manners and thus had her great-aunt Noria wrapped around her little finger. It was a good thing that she had her heart in the right place, because as a dark witch, Ophelia would really be scary. Of all of his children, she was the one he could most easily relate to, as her way of thinking and her way of acting were so familiar. The two of them usually agreed on everything, which was a good thing, as Athena and Tristan usually sided with Hermione. Serena, bless her, always took on the role of mediator, eager to keep the harmony.
While Athena was not outright social, she had her small, albeit close circle of friends. Ophelia was the exact opposite in that regard: She was friendly and polite with most people and well-liked among her peers, but she wasn't particularly close with anyone. Lily and Hugo, the Weasley-kids, were in her year, as well Albus, Ginny's and Peter's second son, whose full real name, Albert Shamus, no one ever used. The kids got along fine, but as his wife often pointed out a bit worriedly, they weren't friends.
Severus, who admittedly didn't have much experience with friendships, couldn't quite comprehend why that concerned her so. Ophelia was self-sufficient, confident and popular enough. If she wasn't as close with anybody as Hermione herself had been with her friends, it wasn't because kids didn't let her in, but because she chose to keep her distance. He couldn't exactly relate to his wife's firm insistence that everyone needed friends. He didn't have any. Just people he found more bearable than most, and whose company was actually entertaining at times. There was only one person he fully trusted, one person who truly knew all of him and who was privy to his innermost thoughts, feelings and his secrets, and only one person he would ever approach with his doubts and worries: His wife.
Severus was pretty sure that Ophelia was just waiting for that one person to come along. And if he wasn't very much mistaken, she already knew who that person was, even though the boy was totally oblivious of his future role: Scorpius Malfoy. Given that he was three years older and her sister's close friend, he regarded Ophelia as a child and treated her more like a sister who was a bit of a nuisance. Funnily enough, Ophelia wasn't offended or put off by it in the least. She seemed rather indulgent, waited patiently for him to take notice of her – as if he was the one who had to grow up. She seemed secure in the knowledge that it would happen one day. If not, Severus had no doubt that she would make it happen. He sometimes wondered if Luna, her godmother, had somehow bestowed her rather peculiar form of serenity on his daughter.
His gaze fell on his son who was whispering with his closest friends, Lucan and Lysander Scamander, Luna's kids. He didn't pay any attention to the sorting ceremony, as he was caught up in their animated discussion, and also failed to noticed his father's gaze on him. It was a funny feeling, seeing a spitting image of himself sitting at the Gryffindor table – not shunned or looked down upon, but popular among boys and girls of all houses.
Tristan looked almost the same as Severus had looked as a child: The same hair and the same eyes – and the poor boy even seemed to be getting the same prominent nose. An yet, Severus knew that the fourth-grader, who had just started to get curious about the other gender, was considered to be rather good-looking by his female peers. It sure helped that he was well groomed and wore decent clothes, but mostly, it was his easy smile, his outgoing personality and his sunny disposition that made him fanciable. Tristan was good-natured, easy-going and an excellent Quiddich player. There was no doubt he'd make it Head-Boy one day.
Although Severus knew that the boy was smart – he didn't father dunderheads – he was also rather lazy and not too interested in academics. But thanks to his intelligence, he got by adequately with a minimum of effort. Tristan was as straightforward and outspoken as any other Gryffindor, and Severus – who would never have thought it possible a few years ago – was immensely proud of his son. Seeing his past self's look-alike as a happy and well-liked child warmed his heart. In a household of four females, Severus and Tristan were happy to have at least one other who was interested in 'boys-stuff' – like Quidditch, duelling or the (admittedly cool) joke products from the Weasley store.
Severus had witnessed the sorting of three of his children who each went into a different house. So when Neville finally called "Prince, Serena" and his little angel hopped on the chair, he was not at all surprised when the hat immediately exclaimed 'Hufflepuff' on touching the caramel crown of his youngest daughter's head. Serena looked over her shoulder to the head table and gave him a happy smile. He couldn't help smiling back. Just like Athena, Serena was rather quiet, though not as withdrawn. She was interested in people rather than books, much like her brother. She was always kind and friendly, and had a bleeding heart like his wife. They had an entire menagerie of pets at Prince Manor she had brought because they had needed saving of some kind, and Serena loved each and every one of them. Yes, his baby daughter, who thrived on harmony and came to him for hugs and kisses much more often than any of his other kids had done at her age, would do well in Hufflepuff.
Ophelia looked at her father and smirked, probably aware of his mixed feelings about officially being the father of a Hufflepuff – and happy that she would stay the only one who shared his house affiliation – and that of her much adored godfather, Draco.
Tristan, who had finally noticed that his sister had been sorted, grinned when he saw her walk to the Hufflepuff table and gave her the thumbs up. Athena blew her little sister a kiss when she passed by the Ravenclaw table, which earned her a few surprised gazes from her fellow students, who didn't see her openly expressing emotion very often.
Severus, knowing that this year would be the only one where he could look down from the high table and see all of his children, felt his heart swell with pride, gratitude and happiness. One child for each house. No one would ever accuse him of partiality ever again.
What I failed to mention in this epilogue is the turbulence that robbed Severus of a couple of nights' sleep two years ago, when both of his godsons, James Severus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy, had used a time-turner which they had stolen from his godfather's wife with the best intentions, but only half-baked plans in mind, to change the fate of Cedric Diggory. It all had almost ended in disaster, but luckily enough, they had Athena, who – thanks to her mother being an Unspeakable – knew a few things and had tools at her disposal that the average kid did not.
Instead of saving Cedric in his timeline and risking changing history, they prevented him from reaching the portkey in the maze and whisked him into the future instead. It caused quite a commotion when the boy who had mysteriously gone missing during the Tri-Wizard Tournament so many years ago suddenly re-appeared on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, not realising himself that he had even been gone.
No one had really understood why James and Scorpius had risked so much for a boy who had gone missing, but they stubbornly claimed to have rescued him from certain death by the hands of Voldemort.
Cedric had a hard time understanding the major time jump he'd done, and was confused to find his peers aged by 20 years. But he quickly got over it – after all, he was now in a better world: His father was still alive and overjoyed to have him back, Voldemort was dead, and Severus Snape turned out to be a decent Headmaster. Besides, living in a Victorian world had the undisputable advantage in his case that nothing had changed much as far as fashion, technology or moral values were concerned. Even the Hogwarts syllabus was still pretty much the same, so Cederic was able to simply continue his studies in his sixth year. He fell madly in love with Athena, who is much smarter and prettier than Cho Chang ever was, at least in her father's opinion.
You will hopefully agree with me that this makes so much more sense than what supposedly happened in 'Harry Potter and the Cursed Child' (which admittedly, I've never read, so for me, it hasn't happened, anyway). Writing a story about two kids trying to prevent Cedric's utterly pointless death, only to have him die a second time? What's the point?
I was so happy when I first heard about the play's plot, thinking that it was her long and overdue attempt to right this first wrong. And then she let the whole mission fail? Not in my universe!